Wednesday moved towards the pyre, already focused on the narrow opening between the wooden sticks.
Enid noticed immediately.
"Wednesday, no," she said, grabbing her arm before she could get any closer. "It's about to start. You can't go in there."
Wednesday didn't stop.
"My novel is inside," she said, her tone flat, as if that alone justified everything.
Enid stepped in front of her, blocking her path now.
"We can get it later," she insisted. "This is a giant wooden structure that's about to be set on fire. That is literally the worst possible timing."
"Later is when it burns," Wednesday replied. "Which makes retrieval inefficient."
Enid hesitated for a second, then tried again.
"It's just a book—"
"It is not just a book," Wednesday said, cutting her off. "It is my work."
Before Enid could react again, Wednesday pulled free and slipped through the narrow gap between the wooden stick ma, disappearing inside the pyre.
"Wednesday!" Enid called after her, stepping forward but stopping at the edge, her nerves kicking in as she looked at the structure. "This is how people accidentally die—!"
Inside, Wednesday moved through the wooden, climbing as the noise outside grew louder, the ceremony reaching its final moments.
Then she saw it.
Her novel, placed deliberately near the upper structure, out of easy reach.
She climbed higher, retrieving it without wasting movement, checking it once before securing it.
She descended the same way she came, slipping out through the opening just as the crowd outside shifted, the pyre seconds away from being lit.
Enid rushed forward the moment she saw her.
"Wednesday—!" she grabbed her, pulling her into a tight hug. "You almost became a barbecue!"
Then the pyre lit up.
Flames rose fast, spreading through the wooden raven as heat pushed everyone back. Enid pulled Wednesday a step away, still holding her.
Wednesday didn't move as she looked at the fire, her novel secure in her hand, and her stalker had just earned a red mark in her book.
Principal Weems stood on the stage, addressing the gathered students with practiced composure.
"Welcome to Nevermore. I'm very pleased to see another year begin within the academy. While the previous year had its… tensions, those matters have been resolved, and this year promises to be far more stable," she said, her tone smooth and controlled.
Barry stepped forward slightly, preparing to insert himself into the speech, but Weems continued without so much as acknowledging his presence.
"And all of you should be aware of the individual who played a role in stopping the Hyde incident and continues to support Nevermore as one of its primary benefactors—Ethan Corvin. I wonder if he would be interested in coming forward to say a few words."
—
Out in the woods, Ethan pulled back mid-kiss as Selene looked at him, her expression calm but clearly aware of what was happening.
"They're calling you," she said. "Shouldn't you go?"
Ethan exhaled, clearly annoyed at the timing.
"…Yeah," he said. "Guess I should."
—
Back at the courtyard, Weems scanned the crowd, already reconsidering her decision. Ethan was nowhere in sight, and knowing him, there was a high chance he was doing anything except what he was supposed to be doing.
Then Ethan appeared near the stage, stepping up, and before Principal Weems could react he took the mic straight out of her hand and moved forward, ignoring the shift in attention as if it was expected.
He looked out at the students, relaxed, like none of this mattered.
"So let's keep this simple," he said, his tone casual. "How many of you want me to get off the stage so you don't have to sit through something boring?"
The reaction came uneven at first, a mix of laughter, confused looks, and a few raised hands, but it spread quickly as the mood shifted away from formal speeches into something unpredictable.
Ajax stared, not sure if this was intentional or just Ethan being Ethan.
Bianca watched with narrowed eyes, already unimpressed.
The Nightshades didn't even react much, because this was expected.
Ethan nodded slightly, like he had just confirmed something.
"Good," he said. "At least you're honest."
Then he raised his hand again, not giving them time to settle.
"Now how many of you actually want me to speak?"
This time the response was louder, clearer, more students raising their hands, some even cheering just to see where this would go.
Ethan looked around, taking it in for a second before reacting.
"Wow," he said. "That's a bad decision."
More laughter followed, stronger this time.
He shifted slightly on the stage, still holding the mic loosely.
"Alright, I'll keep it short," he continued, still holding the mic like he had no intention of giving it back. "Last year was a mess, people almost died, things went wrong, and somehow all of you are still here. That's impressive, but also a little concerning if you think about it."
"And before this turns into one of those 'education is important' speeches, let's be honest for a second," he went on.
"Most of you sit through classes, memorize things you don't care about, write exams, and forget half of it the moment you walk out."
A few students laughed.
"Then someone asks you something basic outside school," he continued, "and suddenly you're standing there wondering what the point of studying all that was."
The reaction grew.
Weems' expression tightened.
Ethan didn't stop.
"But fine, not everything is useless," he added. "Some things that feel meaningless now might actually matter later."
"And then there's chemistry," he said. "Which, let's be real, most of you are never going to use unless you want to become a meth cook."
That line hit immediately.
Laughter broke out across the crowd.
Some louder than others.
Weems stepped forward, clearly done.
"Ethan—" she started, reaching for the mic.
Ethan leaned back just enough to avoid her taking it.
"Relax," he said. "I'm getting to the point."
She did not look convinced.
"I heard about a chemistry teacher once," he said. "Guy gets cancer, everything falls apart, and suddenly all that chemistry knowledge he thought was useless becomes the only thing he can actually use."
"And what does he do?" Ethan continued. "He becomes a meth cook."
Weems stepped in again, faster this time.
"That is enough—"
"But it worked," Ethan finished anyway. "That's the point. Something useless becomes useful depending on the situation."
He finally let go of the mic.
Weems took it immediately.
Ethan stepped back, like he had already said everything he wanted.
Barry's expression had gone completely still.
The students, however—
Were definitely not bored anymore.
***
A/N: It's decided—the next world will be .
And on Patreon, the Wednesday arc is about to end, with The Boys arc starting next.
The Patreon version is already updated with 40 advanced chapters. If you'd like to read ahead of the public release schedule, you can join here:
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